There are way too many things that I want to say and can’t. Not just right now, on this site but out in the everyday world. I am finding my own conversations stifling themselves before I even catch on to it. Before I hear what I am saying I find that I have started a sentence one way with an intended end in mind only to have finished it with a safe piece of vagary or banal nothingness.

It is almost like I am building structurally unsound fires frantically in the dark while people watch me expectantly. In that act – forgetting that, sometimes, the fire catches anyway. You may have walked away, and it might burn the forest to bits. Or you might be pleased with how warm you get and the supremacy of your marshmallow toasting skills. Then again you could be enjoying the glow only to watch your poorly balanced kindling nests and sticks collapse and burn out in seconds leaving angry red coals too small to do anything with but hot enough to hurt.Do you know what I mean or have I simply “burned the playhouse down?” (to quote They Might Be Giants)

With reflection on my past writings I am concerned that I am taking the easy way out via the long way around.

It feels as though I have been very vain and foolish and maybe even wasting the valuable time of people I know and people I don’t. Doesn’t that sound awfully gruesome?  I suddenly sound so despondent and teenage-angst-ridden. Sullen. Do I intend to say that it really isn’t as awful as it sounds or do I want to yell out that it actually is, paint my room black and write really bad, angry poetry?

This is not the end of days and tomorrow will not be  either. However, that doesn’t preclude tomorrow from sucking as much as today does or worse.